Well, dear readers, I have breaking bombshell news so hold onto your hats – it is June. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, it is June, which is already busting out all over. And it is my fervent hope and prayer that June will be a month filled with health, wealth, happiness, creativity, and all things bright and beautiful. Otherwise, I am sitting here like so much fish, listening to Malcolm Arnold’s marvelous English Dances, part of several Dances he composed, including Irish, Cornish, and Scottish. Interestingly, it is the English Dances set that comprise the ballet Solitaire, along with two original pieces, the stunning Sarabande and the Polka. The more beautiful music right now, the better. As you know, yesterday was a very long and emotional day for all those who knew and loved Richard Sherman. Let me begin by saying I hate funerals. I had to be dragged to my parents’ funerals in 1974 and 1977 at Hillside. Since then, I believe I’ve attended only two others. Anyway, only got six hours of sleep due to the redo of Benjamin Kritzer, which got me to bed rather late. Once up, I did the usual stuff then shaved and showered. I left the house at 12:15. Hillside is in very deep Culver City, so it was the 101 to the 405 south. Thankfully, other than the usual slow-ups, traffic wasn’t too bad (apparently, it got worse about twenty minutes later) and I arrived at Hillside at about 12:50. They checked me in and told me where to park and where the big chapel was. Being that early was great because I got a great parking space. Then I sat in the car until 1:20, at which point I walked the few steps to the chapel, where there were already a few people. I said hi to a few I knew and then about 1:40 I went inside and got a seat and said hi to a few more folks I knew. I’m guessing there were about eighty people there, maybe a bit more, maybe a bit less. The service began around 2:10 and ended at 3:15. Only family members spoke, with the exception of Howard Green from Disney – he’s been in the publicity department there for forty-eight years. The rabbi was terrific – very soft-spoken and funny, which was a good thing and would have made Richard happy. Each family member ran the gamut of emotions from tears to joy to laughter. Howard could barely get through his speech, but that was fine because it was so from the heart. Daughter Vicky was also very emotional and beautiful. Richard’s grandchild, Mandy, sang Feed the Birds with Richard Allen at the piano. I was very surprised and grateful to be mentioned in Howard’s speech.
I was not going to go to the gravesite, but in the end, I did. We walked behind the casket (closed, thank goodness), and it was good to walk, which I have to start doing more of. The Kaddish was said, then they released forty doves, and then people could shovel a bit of dirt on the casket. I didn’t do that because I would never shovel dirt on a casket that housed someone I loved – I understand the thought behind it, but it’s not for me. I hugged Vicky and she just looked at me and said, “You know, he considered you his best friend and he really loved you.” That made me get emotional, naturally, and I reiterated how much I loved him. I know we were there to say goodbye to Richard but I’m never saying goodbye to him because I strongly feel his soul is still here and part of all our lives. Then I walked back to my car, used the loo (ool, spelled backwards), and then headed out. I got to Sepulveda but had no idea which way was north or south. I pulled over briefly and gave Google Maps a destination and thankfully, I’d guessed right. Google then took me on the absolute weirdest route ever. I, who have lived here for seventy-six years, had no idea where I was until we finally landed on Ince street and I passed The Culver Studios, where we shot The Creature Wasn’t Nice.
From there, I took my own route that took me past my Beverlywood house and onto Beverly Drive. I’d stupidly forgot to transfer money and Chapstick from my jeans, so I had to stop at an ATM and get a bit of cash for the valet parking folks. I never came across anywhere where I could get a damn Chapstick. I am addicted to Chapstick, so my dry lips were really bugging me. I finally to Richard’s house – I could have parked myself a block away, but I decided on the valet. There were quite a few people already there. I said hello to more people, got a Diet Coke, and after about twenty minutes went to the food table, where there was quite a spread. I opted for a corned beef sandwich (I kept the meat to a tiny portion), with thousand island dressing and coleslaw. It was good and I was, by that point, famished. After that, I talked to a few more people, and got to Elizabeth and gave her a kiss and told her I loved her.
I came right home. The traffic over Benedict Canyon up to Mulholland was non-existent. From Mulholland down to Ventura was a bit slow but not bad. I caught up on a LOT of e-mails and texts, then ordered a proper meal from a nearby jernt called My Fish Stop – I had fried catfish and I have to say it was better than Uncle Andre’s – they were reasonably sized, the two pieces, and I had a tiny side of lobster mac-and-cheese that was delicious. After that, I started watching Capricorn One, which I haven’t seen in quite a few years, but I fell asleep and then when I awoke, it was time to write these here notes.
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll do whatever needs doing, then I’ll go to the mail place and hopefully pick up two important envelopes and whatever else might be there, then I’ll return some tennis shoes to Macy’s and get a credit. After that, the rest of the afternoon will be spent on the redo of Benjamin Kritzer. Then I’m meeting a friend for an early dinner at 5:30, then we’re going to see a play. Afterwards, I’ll come right home.
Tomorrow is a damn ME day and I’ll hopefully finalize the redo of the book so I can send that in on Monday morning. Then the week is finishing casting and then choosing the songs for the Kritzerland show, which I can tell you is a celebration of Richard M. Sherman. I know at least one dear reader who’ll want to fly in to see one particular cast member.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up when I’m up, do whatever needs doing, go to the mail place, return a pair of sneakers, then work on the book redo, after which I’ll have an early dinner followed by seeing a play. Today’s topic of discussion: What’s the best mac-and-cheese you’ve ever had and why was it so damn good? Have you ever made it at home? If so, how? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, as we welcome in a little month I like to call June – and it is my fervent hope and prayer that June will be a month filled with health, wealth, happiness, creativity, and all things bright and beautiful.